


I bear my skin

by Panthera_tigris



Series: reach inside to find my heart is beating [2]
Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: Injury, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 06:44:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20719832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panthera_tigris/pseuds/Panthera_tigris
Summary: Dick wakes up, to his own surprise.He has some things he'd like to say.





	I bear my skin

Dick felt like he was floating.

Not like floating in the ocean or in a pool somewhere, but genuinely floating in nothingness- the ether of the universe holding him up. Darkness surrounded him, enveloped him, and consumed him wholly. He couldn't feel his body anymore and thus there was no pain to speak of. He felt euphoric. As if all of his earthly troubles had left him entirely and he was finally at one with the universe he had fought so hard to protect. He reached out with his mind into the void and just felt benevolence and benignity reaching back towards him.

If this was death, then so be it.

He allowed himself to float there in the ether for what could have been mere minutes or entire millennia, as if time had no linear meaning anymore. He could have sworn in that time he had seen the birth, the growth, and the death of infinite universes.

He was wrong the first time; the old adage was right, your life does flash before your eyes. Or at least his life played out in his mind from the very beginning to the very end. He saw his birth, the joy of his parents. His time as a Flying Grayson and eventually their deaths. He wondered if they were actually here with him, floating in the darkness like he was or if they were somewhere else, somewhere more final like a heaven rather than this purgatory. He saw Bruce take him in, raise him to be the man he is today. He saw his brothers, his friends- their lives through his seemingly omniscient mind's eye. Lastly, he saw his own death: the image of himself bleeding out alone on a street corner.

But something was wrong, something was missing, he just knew it. He focused as hard as he could but came up blank, as if the universe was trying to hide something from him. If he had a physical head, he'd shake it as if to clear his mind. There was someone else there, he felt a presence he was sure of it. He held onto the image a moment longer, enough to see a man running to his side. A man with an orange and black mask.

Slade.

His memories of the man came back in a flurry. He remembered the fights they'd once had first. And then more importantly he remembered their quiet conversations had on rooftops as the sun rose in their city, intimate moments of skin on skin and lips on lips. He remembered those few moments where he had genuinely smiled, teeth flashing and his one eye crinkling with unabashed happiness.

He remembered Slade.

But he wasnt done. There was so much left unsaid, so much left undone. He couldn't be done.

He couldn't be done with Slade.

So he fought the darkness with all his willpower, lashed out with his mind at a nonexistent enemy.

And he took a breath.

\--

Dick wakes up. All at once he coughs, gags and sputters. He can't breathe on his own, something is very, very wrong with him. He reaches up to his mouth to find plastic tubing lodged in his mouth and stuck down his throat, he chokes on it again. The feeling is still coming back to his fingers as he clumsily rips the medical tape away from his face and wrenches the tube out from his trachea with a violent cough.

Where the fuck was he? He quickly glances around the room he's in, his survival instincts taking over. It was a bedroom, of sorts. All white walls and floors, like a hospital room but without the smell of sterility. There's a plethora of medical equipment around him, including various IVs and other tubes and wires connected to his body. Somewhere in the medical equipment, an alarm was going off- most likely due to his elevated heart rate or the fact he just ripped a breathing tube out of his body.

His body fucking hurt. His entire torso was aching and burning with three distinct points of radiation- his bullet wounds.

He had been shot.

Oh yeah.

Dick's breathing grew rapid and rough as the pain overwhelmed him. His vision grew black at the edges as he fought to stay conscious. Somewhere, a door opened and heavy boots clunked against the floor as they walked in. Dick saw Slade's worried face watching him from the end of the bed he was in. Dick smiled wide and opened his mouth to finally tell the other man how he felt.

But promptly passed back out.

\--

When he woke up the second time, it was a much more pleasant experience. There were no tubes down his throat now that he was breathing on his own and no noisy alarms going off. He was peaceful here, lodged among what seemed to be half a dozen fluffy and warm pillows with a comforter thrown over his body. He felt heavy and light at the same time, almost euphoric with the lack of pain.

He was sure as hell on some good drugs.

Dick cracked one eye open and then the other, blinking rapidly to adjust to the daylight streaming through the window to his right. From out the window he could see the outline of a city, a city he had patrolled enough to know the skyline of. So he was still in Gotham, that was good. But where in Gotham, he couldn't be sure.

He peeled back the comforter covering him and glanced down at his body. He was wearing a pair of his boxer shorts and his old Gotham Knights t-shirt. How was he wearing his own clothes? Was he in a hospital? He lifted up his shirt to find his entire abdomen wrapped in a thick layer of gauze.

Well shit. He really had been shot. And he'd really survived after all, unless this was some very weird kind of heaven.

"Welcome back, little bird." A voice startled him from his thoughts from the entrance to the room.

He sure was drugged up if he didn't even notice an entire person standing in the doorway.

He smiled at Slade, goofily.

"Hey, you." His speech came out raspy and slurred because of the drugs. "Where am I?"

"You're in one of my safehouses on the outskirts of Gotham."

Dick nodded. Makes enough sense.

"How long was I out?"

"The first time you were in a coma for about eight days. Then you woke up and ripped your breathing tube out, really smart thing to do, by the way. And then you were unconscious for another two days." Slade explained, hovering at the end of Dick's bed. "You really had us worried, Robin."

That statement had a lot to unpack.

"Who's us?" Dick asked.

"Your Bats and I." Slade came around the the left side of Dick's bed. "He contacted me when you went missing, little did he know I already had you in my evil clutches."

"I went missing?"

"See for yourself." Slade grabbed a newspaper of off the dresser and tossed it in Dick's lap. The headline read "Nightwing Missing in Action: Day 9".

"So everyone thinks I'm missing or dead?"

"Pretty much. Except for Bats and I of course." Slade cocked his head to the side. "And I assume he told your fellow crime-fighters or the other Robins or whatever you call them."

Dick sighed. "I call them my brothers."

"Like a brothers in arms thing? I get that." Slade pulled a chair from under the desk and sat it next to the bed, settling in it with a slight huff.

"No, like they're literally my brothers." Dick explained, reaching out a hand to Slade. He took it without hesitation. Dick had no idea whether this was the right time to tell Slade all of this, but he needed to tell the man _something_.

"The Robins." Dick started. "Are my adoptive brothers."

Slade nodded along, now holding Dick's hand in both of his.

"You don't have to do this, Robin." Slade said, seemingly understanding where the conversation was going. "We can stay the way we are. You don't need to do this for me."

Dick blinked. Yes, he did need to do this. He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"My name is Dick Grayson." He said flatly, eyes searching Slade's for any reaction. Slade simply blinked, his brown eye glistening in the sunshine.

Slade smiled, one of those genuine smiles that reached his eyes, causing his crows' feet to crinkle.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Grayson. " He pressed a kiss to Dick's knuckles. "You're still my little bird, though."

Dick coughed and blinked away the beginnings of tears.

"I-" He started, licking his lips. "I love you, Slade."

"I love you too, little bird."

They sat there in companionable silence for seconds that stretched into minutes, just enjoying each other's company. But Dick started to feel woozy from the medication.

"Get some rest, Dick." Slade commanded, resting a hand on Dick's knee.

Dick was too preoccupied with the way that his name sounded coming from Slade's voice to notice it at first, but then Slade started rubbing circles onto Dick's leg. Something was wrong, he noticed. He couldn't feel it.

He couldn't feel his legs.

**Author's Note:**

> will Robin ever be happy lol  
I have more ideas for this 'verse so expect more.  
Ily bbys ❤️


End file.
